A Drunken Angel
by manyissues101
Summary: -rated T for 'suggestive themes'- He hadn’t planned on spending his night chasing his drunken drag queen around New York City to stop her from stripping, but it had to be done.


Basically, Angel is drunk and doing all kinds of crazy things and Collins just wants to go home.

I don't really write humor, so this could only be funny to me. I dunno.

I don't own RENT.

Dedicated to Jonathan Larson and Wilson Jermaine Herdia.

He had never pictured her as a crazy drunk. That was he, the man who one made a 'get away rope' out of Mark's underwear to climb down the balcony with, or who used Roger's guitar to squish the non-existent cockroaches trying to take over the world. Angel, sweet Angel, wasn't like that. She'd be the sweet, sleepy drunk. Not like him, he thought. Boy was he wrong.

She was skipping down the street, practically breaking her ankles in her heels. "Come on, Collins! Lets go take a walk! Lets go dancing!" she giggled, twirling around.

"Angel, slow down. We have to get you home. You're drunk and I can't keep up with you." It was true. She was far ahead of him. Angel was twirling, her skirt fanning out around her knees.

"Which is really pathetic, because you aren't the one in heels," she called in a singsong voice. "It's really hot out here," was her complaint. Out of the blue, she lifted her shirt. Underneath was the white shirt that she wore under all of her drag, but Collins still didn't want her stripping.

"Angel, stop."

"Why?" She lifted the shirt a bit more.

"Because I don't want you taking off your clothes for all of New York City to see."

"But Collins, I thought you liked it when I take off my clothes," she slurred. "Or are you just jealous cause everyone else gets to see?" The shirt was hiked up higher.

"I'm a very jealous man, Angel, so please come over here and save me a heart attack," Collins sighed. She danced away from him.

"If you're so jealous then come and get me!" Angel squeaked and danced farther out of his grasp. Collins let out another sigh. He hadn't planned on spending his night chasing his drunken drag queen around New York City to stop her from stripping, but it had to be done.

"Angel, please just come home with me. And when we get there you can take off all your clothes if you want."

"What if I don't want to?" she giggled.

"Then do it because I want you to." He tone was pleading now.

Angel stopped right in the middle of the road and tapped her chin. "I think it would be really sexy to have sex right here in the middle of the street."

Collins blinked. "Why?"

"Cause its dangerous, silly. A thrill." He shook his head.

"You sure are different drunk."

"So lets do it right here!" More blinking. "And we'll make lots of noise so that everyone can hear us."

The blinking did not cease.

"Angel, if you want to have sex that bad, then you can wait until we get home."

"But I don't want to!" She twirled more, still giggling. Then her eyes caught a parked car. "Lets go for a ride!"

"Angel, neither of us can drive."

"So?"

"And we can't steal a car." Wow…he was being the responsible one. Maybe he had a little too much to drink too.

Angel skipped to the car and climbed on the hood. "I can be like all those girls in the magazines." She meant the centerfolds that posed on the hoods of cars. She lay across the hood in a position that was a far cry from that of a centerfold's.

"Angel, you can model for me at home. But we just have to get there first."

"But Cooooooooooooooolllllinnsssssssss! I don't want to go home! I want to go out! Lets go get everybody together and we can all go to the Life Café and stay out alllllll night."

"Baby, we just came from the Life Café. And everyone else is at home. Where we should be."

Angel gave Collins a seductive little smile and patted the hood of the car above her. (She was laying upside down on it.)

"You want to go somewhere?" Angel nodded eagerly, shifting herself into an upright position. Collins held out his hand and Angel took it, sliding down the vehicle's hood. Collins didn't know anywhere they could go, so he would have to make it up on the spot. "One condition. You have to keep your eyes closed. It's a surprise, and if you open your eyes then we'll go straight home. Understand?"

"Okay," she closed her eyes, "take me away."

Collins got a good grip on her hand and began to lead her through the city. She didn't have to know where they were going. Angel was singing, humming, and telling slurred stories the whole walk to their apartment. As not to give it away, Collins maneuvered them inside with as little noise as possible. Then he set them on the couch.

"Where are we?"

"The subway. We're almost there."

"Oh." Angel snuggled up to him and buried herself in his neck with his reminder of 'no peeking.' To recreate the feel of the subway, Collins rocked her a bit, singing their song in her ear in his slow, sexy croon. It didn't take long for Angel to be claimed by sleep.

Carefully, he removed her wig and boots, carrying her to the bed where she could lie peacefully beside him.

0---0

"Morning, Angel."

She groaned and rolled over into the pillows at the sound of his voice.

"What happened last night?" she tried to ask. It came out as: "Whappen lanigh?"

"You got drunk. Really drunk."

"Ovioly, Colns. Imant whadiido?" Translation: "Obviously, Collins. I meant, what did I do?"

"Why do you assume you did something?" he chuckled.

"Ilaways do. Asmimi." Meaning: "I always do. Ask Mimi."

Collins laughed. "Truthfully? You don't want to know."


End file.
